To Catch a Thief
by The Shadeling
Summary: Kale is a member of a thieves guild called the Phoenixes. One night, her guild leader takes her on a heist that will change her life forever. What happens when you steal from the King of Thieves? T, to be safe. Yami Bakura X OC. Ancient Egypt, with my own embellishments.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The streets of Alexandria hummed and bustled with activity, busy in spite of the desert sun's oppressive heat in the brilliant noon sky. The cobbled road was crowded with people laughing and haggling in the midst of the bazaar. Merchants in colorful robes declared their wares the finest available at the lowest prices while the citizens browsed with an air of pride; they all knew the merchants' game and all knew how to play it. They knew how to cheat too.

Kale moved through the crowd languidly, letting her eyes wander, seeking a target. There! A nobleman in fine, silver silks leaned curiously over a booth selling rings set with precious stones. The jeweler was a shrewd man and could practically smell the profits he could make off this man. He smoothly held the noble's complete attention, giving Kale a chance to relieve him of some of his wealth. Kale approached closer, never looking directly at the nobleman but carefully angling towards him. Then she saw the aristocrat's companion, an axe of a man, with a sharp face and lithe, hardened body. He was facing the crowd with his arms crossed, a threatening expression carved across his face, like it was etched in wood. A short sword in a worn scabbard hung easily on his hip. He might as well have been wearing a sign that said "Approach and die." _Nope, not today,_ Kale thought to herself, veering reluctantly away from the rich man and his guard. _I might be more reckless than a drunk man with a whore, as Marik likes to say, but I'm not __**that**__ stupid._ So she continued through the bazaar, eyes peeled for another morsel. Then, _aha_, she came across two men, one burly while the other was thin, arguing loudly in the street, something about one being a lazy jackal and the other being a strutting gigolo. At the last comment, the gigolo snarled and threw a punch, starting a full on brawl. The intrigued passerby formed a circle, hoping for a little excitement in their vague lives. Kale pushed herself to the front of the crowd, waiting for her chance eagerly. The jackal jabbed at his opponent before landing a full swing that sent the gigolo staggering into Kale's section of the crowd. Instantly, her hand slipped in and out of his pocket, slipping her catch into her own before heartily assisting the gigolo back into the fray. The thin man's momentum took the jackal by surprise and knocked the man over. The gigolo took advantage of his opponent's disadvantage, leaping on top of the beefy man and hammering into his face repeatedly. A piercing whistle shrieked through the air as soldiers stormed through, breaking up the fight and the crowd simultaneously. _Time to go_, Kale thought as she slipped away quickly, keen to be as far away from the Pharoah's men as possible. The thief smiled, putting her hand in her pocket to touch the small sack of money she'd nabbed. It was a fine way to start the day, she decided, as she moved on to her next victim.

By the time dusk finally settled over the desert city, Kale had "found" three more sacks of money, each containing a modest sum of money in copper and silver coins, an unadorned silver ring, and, best of all, a small turquoise gem that made Kale squeal with delight. Internally, of course: people might be suspicious of an obviously poor girl screeching over such an obviously valuable item. Ecstatic, she darted for home, wondering if Marik would let her keep the gem. The girl arrived at an unimposing building, tall and made of bricks, like the majority of the city's buildings. She rapped twice on the door, murmuring, "Phoenix reborn," to the watcher on the other side. With a sliding sound, the bolt was removed and she was allowed to return to her sanctuary, home of the thief's guild known as the Phoenixes. During the day, the building was a simple warehouse. At night, thanks to a clever arrangement the former leader had made with the warehouse supervisor, it was crawling with thieves fresh off the hunt, tired and satisfied-or disappointed, depending on their luck. They leaned against the hard crates or sat on the floor, carefully counting out their take before separating out their dues over scraps of fabric that would be rolled into packets. In return for the shelter and protection of the guild, every member had to give fifty percent of their take to the guild leader, more if the leader was angry with you. Every member was given a different colored scrap so the leader could keep track of every thief's payment. Anyone caught shirking his or her due was beaten and banished from the guild, forced to live on the street until another guild took you in….if one ever did.

Kale clambered over a large stack of crates, perching on the top of it. Carefully, she smoothed out the faded blue cloth and spread out her take in front of her. Ten silvers, thirty-six coppers, one silver ring, and a gem. _Hmmm, how to split this? _She knew that the gem was worth much more than all the rest combined but it pained her to part with the lovely blue-green stone. She held it up to the light, hoping to see a flaw that would devalue it enough that she could justify keeping it. Sadly, the jewel, at least to Kale's eye, was perfect, and without a jeweler's loupe, she couldn't prove how valuable it was or wasn't. Sighing dejectedly, she put the jewel on the cloth and folded it into a tight, practiced packet. The girl scooted herself off the stack and jogged over to where Marik, the current leader of the Phoenixes, was sitting. There was a distinct aura around him, warning people to keep their distance, an illusion of privacy for discussions of payment. Kale reflected sadly on how different Marik looked now. The two used to be fast friends- partners in crime, so to speak. But when the former leader, Lythrom, had chosen the purple-eyed boy to be his successor-much to everyone's surprise; Lythrom was constantly snarling at Marik for being cocky and stubborn- things had changed. Marik had to spend much of his time learning how to run a guild of thieves, and, more importantly, how to maneuver the rest of the city to benefit the guild: who to blackmail, who to bribe. Which politician to play nice to, which shadow to show respect. It was a delicate dance, one that took all of Marik's focus to balance. Kale and Marik had simply drifted apart as he took on more responsibilities as leader and she tackled more heists on her own, the currents of time separating them.

Marik saw Kale come bounding up and hid a smile. She was pretty, with black hair that she kept tied in a loose ponytail and light green eyes that danced with laughter. Her body was tan and fit, if scrawny from the nights she, like all thieves, went hungry. Nothing stunning, merely pretty. But her boundless energy that so often got her into scrapes almost made her glow, like a fire was burning inside her. He stood and faced her, lifting his hand in greeting, "Kale." She skidded comically to a halt, before holding two fingers to her scalp in a teasing salute. "Leader," she replied, grinning. "Heard you were at that brawl today," Marik said warmly. "Get anything good?" Her smile widened, "Yes…..and no." Marik furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?" Kale started to reply, but someone yelled her name out, claiming her attention, much to Marik's annoyance. The downside of Kale's energy was that she was very easily distracted. A youth with a hopeful smile held up two, fist sized balls and yelled, "Wanna play?" _Silly boy_, Marik thought condescendingly, _she's not for you._ Now that he had finally found his rhythm between the guild and the politics of leading it, he was ready to pursue her at last, to close the painful gap that had spread between them during the years he'd been training. She was his to catch, and Marik wasn't about to let anyone steal her away. He reached out and snagged Kale's ponytail as she nearly took off, having completely forgotten about their conversation. Gently tugging her back, the leader said teasingly, "Ah ah ah. Pay first, then play." Kale twisted herself around to scowl lightly at him, then pulled her blue packet out of her pocket and tossed it at him. Marik caught it easily, frowning slightly at the extremely lightness of the packet. Releasing her hair, he opened it. The thief's eyebrows arched slightly and he pulled out the turquoise gem. "Good catch, Kale," he praised, pulling a loupe out of his pocket. Marik put the loupe to his eye and studied the inside of the jewel. "**Very** nice catch," he added, finding no flaws in the structure, "where'd you pick this up?" "From somebody's pocket," she said vaguely, her eyes on the ceiling as she bounced on her toes restlessly. "Ha, ha," he replied drily, returning the loupe to his pocket, "What else did you get?" That brought her firmly back to the ground and she glared at him, arms crossing. "I didn't shirk," Kale growled darkly, daring him to disagree. Marik met her gaze coolly, reminding her just who was leader, before saying, "I wasn't implying you did, Kale. I was just surprised you'd use something so," he paused to search for a word, "**shiny** as your due. There's a reason Lythrom called you a magpie." Her eyes darkened at the mention of their former master; he'd called her other, harsher things too. Marik cursed himself briefly for his mistake. _I don't want her to be angry with me._ She muttered stiffly, "Wasn't enough on the other side," eyes angrily staring at the floor. Marik gave her a few moments to calm down before repeating in a gentler voice, "What else?" Kale took a deep breath, puffing it out in frustration, then put her hands behind her back and looked over his right shoulder, slouching her shoulders disrespectfully, a pose Marik painfully recognized as the one she used when she put up walls between herself and the world, a shield against whatever came next. "Ten silvers, thirty-six coppers. One silver ring, no setting, no detail," she said listlessly, keeping her eyes firmly away from his face. "That's it, sir." Her voice was completely dead on the last word. _Ah, Kale, don't be cold. Don't you know I'd never hurt you? _"Kale, look at me." Reluctantly, the girl obeyed, meeting his soft, almost tender purple eyes. The tenderness surprised her slightly; they might be old friends but he was leader now… Her face fell away from his, and, instinctively, Marik moved and caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "I'm not Lythrom, Kale," he said gently, staring into those sullen green eyes, "I'm not going to get angry with you when you've done nothing wrong. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry for that." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, then, impulsively, tousled her hair. "Hey," she yelped, jerking away and covering her head with her hands. Marik smiled, then tapped her cheek softly with the back of his fingers. "Don't be mad, Rush," he cooed, using his old nickname for her, for her need to constantly be in motion. She didn't move for a few moments, long enough for him to worry that he'd done considerable damage to their friendship, then she looked at him and smiled brightly. "You know I can't stay mad at you, Marik," she said fondly, then added, "besides, you know me, I take things badly anyway. We'll call it even, hmm?" Without waiting for a reply, she darted away, leaving him to wonder how she would've reacted if he'd kissed her instead of teasing her. Sitting back down, he closed his eyes. _Kale, Kale, Kale, what am I going to do with you?_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Marik walked down the narrow alleyway, navigating easily despite the dark night. He was used to the shadows and his violet eyes could see in the night as easily as day. Finally, he reached the shady looking tavern. Marik paused briefly to mentally prepare himself for the meeting. The fate of the guild, _his _guild, rode on his shoulders. Any thief can usually steal enough to live on, but, unfortunately, the crooked life wasn't as dashing as the stories made it seem. Most days, it was more about competing with another thief for a few coppers then casually stealing fists full of gold. And, these days, getting caught meant living out the rest of your short life rotting in a tomb and praying that you die before the stump where your hand used to be started to fester. If you weren't just killed on the spot. And even if you didn't get caught by a guard, you still were always fighting to stay one step away from death by starvation or disease. The key to a guild's survival was influence, and the change they picked up on market day didn't cut it. That's what the leader was for: pulling enough strings and finding enough jobs so that maybe they would survive this year. Marik took a deep breath and entered the tavern. _Let's make a deal._

Marik chose a table in a far corner, waving down a serving girl for a beer. It was mostly for show; he never drank on the job. _"Remember, boy," _Lythrom had drilled into him, _"people's lives depend on whether or not you can manipulate the people who manipulate the Pharoah. So don't you dare take more than a sip or two of that beer, or I'll kill you myself."_ His teacher had waved his dagger in Marik's face, just in case he didn't get the message. _Where does the time go, _Marik mused. It seemed like only yesterday, he and Kale were running all over Alexandria, creating mischief as they went. Two kids against the world. Then, it had all changed… Marik shook off the nostalgia that had over taken him; he didn't want to think about that. _Soon,_ he thought determinedly, _Kale will be mine again and those days won't matter anymore._ The rough scraping of a chair being pulled back brought him abruptly into the present.

The man in front of Marik wore a dark hooded robe, his face hidden by the fabric. The robe camouflaged the stranger's body, making it impossible to tell whether he was lean or brawny. Marik, with his thief's perception, however, saw how the man sat with his spine perfectly straight, his back not touching the back of the chair and how he gingerly folded his arms on the table, like he was worried about being contaminated by the wood. _Ha, how cute. a baby politician trying to make a name for himself in the dark. This will be a steal. _Marik smirked at his little joke and let the stranger stew a little longer before saying in a bored tone, "So?" The stranger jumped a little at Marik's voice, scowling briefly, then asked, "Are you one of the Phoenixes?" "Perhaps," Marik mused, watching the man's face darken with glee. _He has a temper. How fun!_ "Don't toy with me," the stranger snapped angrily, "if you're not the man I seek, then say so, so I can leave!" "Touchy," Marik chided lightly, running his finger idly around the rim of his cup, "you shouldn't flash your temper like that. Someone might take offense. Relax, have a beer. The murderers don't show up for a few more hours, so you can rest easy. Now," Marik leaned back, an illusion of ease, "what can I do for you?". The stranger glanced around anxiously. "Can we go somewhere a little more...private?" "Sure, so long as you're not looking a play mate." Marik smirked again, spying a hint of a flush under the man's hood. "No, not that." "All right, then," Marik waved the serving girl back over. She leaned over obligingly and he murmured in her ear, "Can we borrow one of your private rooms for a few minutes?". The young woman eyed him appreciatively. "Sure, honey, anytime." "Excellent," Marik stood suddenly, catching the stranger off balance. He smiled, thinking of Kale, and led the man into the private room.

"So, what's the job," Marik said brusquely, after the stranger checked the locks on the door, fingering the knife in his pocket warily. It probably wouldn't be necessary but just in case… A candle flickered dimly in the small room, its faint light casting eerie shadows on the ground. Marik noticed that the stranger was….short. Quite short, actually. Marik wondered about it as the stranger said, "Before we start our business, there's something else we need to discuss." With a dramatic swoosh, he whipped off his robe, revealing his identity. "You," Marik snarled, whipping out his knife and preparing to attack. "You won't leave here alive, Pharoah's dog!" "Wait, I'm not here to cause trouble," Yugi said quickly, putting his hands up defensively. Yugi, a man with oddly colored, spiky hair, was well-known throughout Alexandria as the Pharaoh's head servant. Through him, the Pharaoh's will was done. "I'm here to talk about a job!" He yelped as Marik slammed him against the wall, lifting him off the ground. "How stupid do you think I am," Marik hissed, holding his knife against Yugi's throat. "You'll turn on me the second I turn my back!" "Please," the Pharaoh's man gasped, "If you do the job, your guild will be rich beyond your wildest dreams and- and the guards will know not to bother you!" He struggled to take another frantic breath while Marik's mind raced. _If he's here, that means that the Pharaoh had to have sent him. If I kill him- we could be wiped out. What do I do? _Sensing Marik's indecision, Yugi quickly stammered, "Just hear me out, please. You don't have to take the job, I swear. Don't kill me!" Marik deliberated internally, still pinning the little man. He abruptly dropped Yugi, taking a few steps back. "Start talking, dog."

Marik slammed open the secret door, leading into the Phoenixes lair, mind racing as he practically sprinted into the building. _- oh, so risky- but if we could pull it off…_ He could see the Phoenixes rising to power, the strongest force in the underworld of Alexandria. None would dare cross them, not even the King of Thieves himself. And with Marik at the head of the guild, with Kale at his side, he'd be unstoppable. He practically salivated at the idea of that much power in his hands. _Hold on,_ he checked himself, _we need to survive this heist first. Then we can celebrate. _He burst into the central room of the hideout, where the thieves who didn't have hidey-holes to sneak back to slept. The meeting had only taken an hour, so it was still deep in night; some thieves had already settled into sleep but the majority were still awake, playing quiet games in the dull light of a lamp oil. A few thieves gambling with stolen dice looked up in surprise, their normally stoic leader more excited than a child with a sweet roll. One opportunistic boy took advantage of his opponents' distraction and casually bumped over a die to a number more favorable to him. Marik smiled then pointed at another thief who was heading towards her sleeping mat tiredly and yelled, "Mai!" Mai looked up, then smiled sexily and casually posed suggestively. "Hey, leader," she purred huskily, brushing her thick yellow hair over her shoulder to better show off her large breasts, "did you need my…help with something?" Marik looked her up and down casually, smiling admiringly. Mai was certainly stunningly beautiful and they'd enjoyed each other's company before, but she was just a whore. Not Kale. "Not tonight, Mai," he said easily, "but you can tell me where Odion and Kale are." Odion was one of the best thieves in the guild and had discovered a talent for archery after a guard had misplaced his bow. He preferred to stay in the background, usually unnoticed by his teammates, helping from a distance. Mai pouted prettily, then said, "Odion is practicing, Kale went to bed." "Thanks," Marik said, already moving on. Navigating the sleeping bodies on the ground, he found Kale sprawled on top of a box, one arm dangling off the side. She was still wearing the clothes she'd been wearing earlier, so he'd assumed she'd just fallen into bed. Smiling, he tugged on her arm and ran his other hand over her hair, loving the softness of it. "Kale, wake up," he whispered excitedly. Her face puckered adorably and she groaned quietly. "It wasn't me," she mumbled, trying to roll back into sleep. "Of course not," Marik said laughingly, "come on, Rush, up and at 'em. We've got a job to do." For a second, Marik thought she'd already fallen back to sleep, but then she inhaled deeply, and, without opening her eyes, rolled off the box, landing easily on her feet. She straightened, stretching her long limbs and attempting to shake the sleepiness from her brain. "Okay, I'm awake," she said, pulling her hair back. "Let's go get Odion," Marik said, grabbing her hand to pull her quickly through the sleeping masses, over to where Odion was patiently shooting arrows at a target, purposefully never hitting the same spot- stealing arrows was usually an ordeal and most craftsmen, like, say, fletchers, were very hostile towards street rats watching their work, as it was a ploy used by many to spy on their competitors. "Odion," Marik called out when he saw the tall man, waving him over. Odion noticed the two and, sighing internally, sheathed his bow and moved smoothly over to them. "A job," he asked somberly. Marik nodded, "A big one." "So? Let's hear it." They huddled together for privacy. "A noble wants us to steal a priceless artifact off a caravan heading up the Nile. If we get it, not only are we set up for life, but the noble has promised to pull some strings with the guards to make things a little easier on us." "Caravan," Kale said, brow furrowing, "didn't the King send out word that he had marked a caravan as Untouchable." The King of Thieves not only took a tithe from all the guilds but could mark certain establishments as "Untouchable", protected. "It's not this one, I checked," Marik said dismissively. He met each of his teammates eyes and said, "I'm not going to lie to you. This may be our hardest heist yet. We might not all come back from this one. Are you in?" Kale made a _tch_ sound and said, "What a dumb question. A high-risk, high reward heist? Of course, I'm in." "As am I," Odion said formally. "Excellent," Marik said happily, watching Kale's face. _Soon._

**_Author's Note: _Sorry this one took a while, guys. Enjoy! Chapter 3 will be "the heist" and should introduce Bakura! R&R, please.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_Two nights later…_

The moon was full and bright, illuminating the dark desert. Wind swept sand over the hard, dry ground, rasping like one last breath. The desert was known as the Twin Desert, because it changed itself with the dry and wet season. When Nile was slow and sluggish, like a drunk, the desert sands became an ocean, waves of grit flowing across the land. But when the Nile rises high and threatens to sweep unlucky souls away, the desert changed: the sand retreated, leaving a harsh shell of fruitless, cracked earth. Sometimes the waves uncovered small mountains and outcroppings of jagged rock. The most seasoned travelers could navigate "both" deserts with ease. However, even those travelers knew to treat the land with the utmost respect. One never knew what surprises the desert held in store.

Lying on the hard stone beneath her, Kale waited eagerly on top of one of the resurrected rocks that rose sharply from the ground. Hidden from anyone below, she didn't bother to hide her wide grin. Her excited eyes scanned the darkness. She couldn't stop an impatient squirm that wiggled through her thin body. The contact of her dark clothes rubbing against the head of the rock whispered sternly. Kale froze at the sound, scowling and briefly cursing herself. _Stupid girl! You'll ruin the job if you keep that up! _She closed her eyes and forced herself to be still. _The mark is coming to you_, she chanted in her head, struggling against the urge to move. _You don't have to move, the mark is coming to you._ With a shudder, her fists clenched then relaxed. _That's it, just be calm for a short while…_ Peeking over the top of the ridge, Kale suddenly noticed a bobbing light in the distance. _Is that it? Please tell me that's it. _She waited, keen eyes ready. _One, two, three, four- there! Another light! It's the caravan, yes! _Kale whooped internally and readied herself for action.

The mark was a large camel train that traveled across the Twin Desert, all the way to the sea. They carried anything from spices to human beings and delivered them to buyers, impatient for their goods. Kale watched hungrily as the caravan got closer. _Somewhere on that train is the package and I've got to get it._ The caravan lurched nearer and nearer. Twenty strong, golden camels trudged along the pass, fastened together with a rope. Every four camels or so, a lean, hard man was holding onto a halter, helping to lead the pack. Along with the men leading the camels were six men, jagged, rough, and armed, swords thirsty for blood. _The guards._ Kale shuddered lightly, seeing how eager these men were battle. _Be careful, Marik…_Suddenly, a sharp shrilling noise shattered the night's silence, followed by the sound of hooves pounding on the dirt. Kale looked up in surprise. _Horses? What in the name of Ra? _She got her answer.

Two horsemen, wearing masks and howling and yelping with glee, raced past the caravan, throwing up clouds of dust in their wake. One rider leaned over and smacked the back of one guard's head as he went past, jeering, while the other snagged a heavy parcel off a camel's pack. There was an uproar all the way down the camel train and the guards snarled angrily, drawing their weapons. The rider tore open the parcel and tossed its contents into the air. Patches of silk rained down from the sky and some of the travelers bolted out to save the precious fabric. The caravan jerked to a stop. Kale watched the chaos in awe. _Marik, you devilish jackal,_ she thought with wonder. _How do you manage these things? _While the guards ran after the horsemen, who taunted at them, darting in to grab more packages, while staying out of range of the heavy swords, and the merchants wailed and tried to save their livelihood, Kale took the opportunity to slide down the face of the rock, using the length of rope, moving as quickly and silently as possible. Cutting herself loose, she darted to the side of a camel, using the beast as cover. The animal complained as she hauled herself up its back, trying to stay hidden. Locking one of her legs around the camel's thigh and planting a knee across its flank, Kale leveraged herself upright, grunting with the effort. She started riffling through the pack, her hands and eyes searching for the right markings. _Rats! Not this one._ Cursing slightly, she jumped down from the camel and darted over to the next camel. That one, and the next three, yielded no results. _I'm going to have to go through the entire caravan, aren't I, _she thought in frustration. She pulled herself up the fifth camel agitatedly and briskly opened one of the parcels, a small satchel sort of thing. Kale looked inside and yelped, nearly dropping the package. A black snake hissed angrily at her, flaring open its hood: a cobra. _Snake, it's a snake, ohmyraitsaSNAKE! _Kale jerked back, face going pale and sweaty as the serpent swayed dangerously. _What kind of nut job puts a snake in a bag?! Never mind, let's put you back, nice snakey. Please don't bite m- what's that? _Catching a glimpse of gold, Kale oh so carefully tilted the satchel to the side, trying very hard not to aggravate the snake even more. _A package inside a package, how odd. And, look, the gold is a crest of some kind. _She angled carefully so she could see, then groaned in despair, heart dropping. The emblem was a simple golden eye that every Egyptian child could recognize. The Eye of Horus. _"The package is marked with the Eye of Horus, emblazed in gold," _Marik had said earlier. Perfect. And a bleeding _**cobra**_ was literally sitting on it. _I knew it. The gods hate me. _Kale took a shaky breath, trying to figure out what to do. Then-

"Thief!" The shout echoed across the desert and Kale looked up, startled. One of the caravan men was pointing at her and shouting to his fellows. She had been caught! Kale looked around for an escape route desperately as the men closed in. The thief knew she couldn't fight them off; there were too many for her limited fighting skills. _Think, Kale! What can you use? _ She looked again. _All I have is a knife and a bag_..._a bag with a cobra in it!_ Throwing Kale gripped the package at the bottom, feeling her mark through the thin fabric and holding it tight. all caution to the wind, she flung the bag at the men, keeping her hold. The furious snake flew from the sack, hissing and flailing, right in front of the men. Venom dripping from its fangs, the cobra drew itself up to its full height; its head was almost level with the camel's back. The men drew back in fear and the camel shied away anxiously, buying Kale precious time to act. _Quickly, quickly_ she rushed herself, sawing at the leather strips holding the pack. With a snap, it came loose, heaving over with a groan, giving the girl access to the rope keeping the camel from straying away. She slashed the rope easily, giving the camel's rump a hard thump. The animal, already spooked by the snake, responded by bolting out into the desert, carrying a suddenly floundering Kale away into the night. She wrapped her arms around its hump frantically, clinging onto the satchel for dear life. _How do I stop this thing?!_ The sound of hooves approaching made her look over her shoulder fearfully, images of an angry herd of camel drivers chasing her. Then a slow grin spread over her face. Marik and Odion, their masks off, were racing after her, leaving the caravan in the dust. Marik rode up beside her, his horse working furiously. In one movement, he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her off the camel, seating her sideways in front of him. The leader of the Phoenixes buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent with relief, holding her tightly against him. Kale stiffened in surprise before relaxing against her friend, heart still pounding from adrenaline. "That was good thinking with the snake," he murmured in her ear, tickling her. "Not really," Kale replied honestly, "there wasn't much thinking involved." She felt the vibration of his chest as Marik chuckled softly, making her heart flutter a little. "Oh, sweet Kale, what would I do without you?" Carefully, he pulled back on the reins, slowing down.

Odion caught up with them, frowning at the sight of his master practically cuddling his guild-mate. Steadfastly loyal to Marik and Marik only, Odion was troubled by the guild leader's ever-deepening affection for the girl. "Well," he said gruffly, "did you get it?" He heard Kale's irritated sigh, then she tossed the satchel to him. He looked inside and pulled out the package. It was about the size and shape of a plate, but he could feel empty spaces through the cloth. The somber man pondered it a moment then shrugged and returned it to Marik. It wasn't his business anyway. Marik took the parcel and tucked it into his shirt while Kale squirmed and rearranged herself so she was sitting forward, then she leaned back into Marik tiredly. The adrenaline rush had faded, leaving her exhausted. "Kale," Marik whispered in her ear. "Hmmm?" She turned her head towards his, eyes drooping sleepily. Marik leaned down and kissed her gently. Kale's eyes opened wide, startled, and she pulled back a little. She felt the smile on his lips as he kissed her again, holding her in his arms, then, pressing his forehead against hers for a moment, he drew back and said, "Just think about it." Kicking the horse into a trot, he headed for home, a bemused, slightly shocked Kale and an irritated Odion shaking his head accompanying him.

_The next night, in a cold room far away from Alexandria._

"What do you mean 'it's gone'!?" The leader of the caravan cringed in fear on his knees as he tried to appease the wrath of his master. "Please, sir, it's not my fault," he pleaded, "Thieves—." The man cried out as a brutal kick sent him flying across the hard, icy cold floor. His eyes blurred then cleared as the wrathful man stepped into the light. White hair and skin marked him as a foreigner; his dark, violent eyes were sharper than any blade and impaled the trader to the ground. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses," the pale man spat, "I paid you to do a job, a job you **failed** to accomplish despite the resources I funded to your little operation. Do you have any idea of what your failure has cost me?!" With the last word, the man smashed his heel into the cowering merchant's collar bone. He waited until the screams of pain faded a bit, then he crouched down, his face inches from the sniveling coward's own. "You are useless to me," the cold voice hissed quietly and the caravaner went from pale to ashen. "No, sir, please don't-." For a moment, a dark, malevolent force gathered around the foriegner's body, a shadowy miasma that pulsed with hungry energy. With one thrust of his hand, the dark power lunged towards the helpless trader. The man screamed the terrified shriek of those who see their death, then the scream cut off short, clipped like a bird's wing, and the man's body went limp, eyes soulless. With a dissatisfied grunt, the man with hair like moonlight stood, an aura of fury still palpable around him. "Someone will pay," he snarled to himself. "No one steals from the King of Thieves. Nobody."

**Author's Note: Hello, again! Hope you enjoyed Chapter 3, I had a lot of fun writing it and figuring out the technical details of robbing a camel caravan. Next chapter, Bakura comes looking for the thieves who stole from him. How will he take revenge? Find out soon! R&R please, I really appreciate any feedback you guys can give me :) Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

_I do not own YuGiOh or any of the names associated with it. _

Chapter Four

The next few days whirled past Kale like a dust devil teasing the sands. Marik had delivered the hard-stolen item to the mysterious client (at Yugi's request, Marik had kept his identity a secret) returned with more riches than Kale, or any thief in the guild had ever dreamed of seeing. Suddenly, the Phoenixes went from being a few steps from the stinking gutters to just a stone's throw away from the glorious fountains in the heart of the city. Water was more precious than gold in the midst of the desert, and the sight of so much of it just flowing and flowing drove some of the thieves into a howling, gleeful frenzy. Thrust into the upper echelons of the underworld, the Phoenixes were welcomed into a world of greed and shadows. They still wore pauper's clothing (for only fools flaunt their wealth), but every thief in the gang marked themselves with the scarlet-orange feather of a phoenix; some wore pins or had the feather embroidered into their vests while others inked it into their skin. This was one change Kale was _not_ happy with.

"I am not cattle to be branded," she'd hissed when Marik had pressed her about wearing the feather. Despite Marik's assurances that she'd be safer with the feather, reminding her that no one would dare bother a Phoenix, Kale's stomach clenched like a snake crushing a bird at the thought of having the veil of shadows, the lifeblood of any criminal, ripped away, exposing her like a naked worm in the sun. She hated the idea that, at one glance, any child could see who she was. A thief cannot survive without anonymity. And Kale wasn't sure she could survive as anything but a thief. So, while the others wore their badges with pride, Kale, much to Marik's aggravation, left her pin at home and stayed in the shadows. He worried but knew that nothing would change her mind, stubborn girl.

While the Phoenixes celebrated their new found wealth, the city bustled as if nothing had changed. People came, people went. Some were born, some died. Like the rise and fall of the sands, time passed and settled. And, unbeknownst to anyone, a stranger walked into Alexandria, darkness rippling from his form and throughout his mind.

_Change is so strange,_ Kale thought idly, perched on a rooftop like a bird. The day was almost done and the sunset cast everything in a lovely, fiery hue. She looked across at the rooftops, noticing where the roofs changed from solid stone to simple cloth hangings to nothingness, where the rich became poor, and the poor became even poorer. _Just days ago, I was on that side,_ she thought, _barely able to buy food. Now look at me, on top of the world. Weird, how some things change and some things never do._ She smiled slightly at that. After all, she was sitting on a rooftop, wondering about life, the way she had a thousand sunsets before the heist and, she suspected, a thousand sunsets after. A desert breeze scattered some of her hair into her face. Laughing silently, she resolutely attempted to recapture her hair and tuck it behind her ear. The tips of her fingers brushed against the small stud nestled in the ridge of her ear, startling her for a moment before she relaxed and smiled. A gift from Marik, the earring was a small, turquoise stone set with simple silver. _"You're precious to me," _Marik had whispered to her. _"I wanted to give you something just as special as you are to me." _Then, there had been kissing, lots of kissing, which made Kale smile even wider to remember. _I could get used to that._ She laughed aloud and hopped off her perch, free falling gloriously for a second…two…then, "Ha!", rolling with the impact and sprinting off, passing bemused passerby as she ran. The exhilaration of adrenaline and movement filled her lungs deeply. She exhaled—and suddenly felt her body collide with another's and she flew through the air, dazed. She hit the ground rolling, breathless, and stars flashed through her head like mice racing out of their holes. Kale struggled to all fours, gulping deep, painful breathes, then stood shakily. Her body had been thrown into an alley, Kale realized hazily. Her vision blurred from pain and blood came away when Kale touched her head. "Ouch, that looks painful," a male voice said from behind Kale, the tone cold despite the sympathetic wording. "Let me help you with that." Kale's honed instincts suddenly blared an alarm, her body screaming, _Run! Get away! NOW!_ Obeying, she tried to bolt away, but an iron bar of muscle wrapped around her middle, trapping her. The stranger's hand clamped roughly over Kale's mouth before she could scream. "Ah, ah, ah, let's not be rude," the voice hissed in her ear as he dragged her deeper into the alley. Kale's terrified response was, naturally, to sink her teeth into his palm. Blood ran into her mouth and she gagged at the slick, salty liquid. The man merely tightened his grip on her until she felt her ribs creak inwards, pain spasming through her body. Desperately, Kale kicked and squirmed, struggling to find an inch she could exploit to escape. "Feisty little thing, aren't you," the man said patronizingly. "We'll have to fix that now, won't we?" His hand suddenly stretched to cover Kale's nose as well as her mouth, sealing off her air. Kale, fear and confusion rushing together, fought as hard as she could, her lungs screaming for air. Black spots flickered in her vision, briefly at first, then they became bigger and darker until oblivion overtook her.

The stranger smiled with satisfaction as the girl's body went limp, unconscious. Pulling a length of rope from his pocket, he bound her wrists and ankles with practiced, easy movements. Smirking still, he admired his handy-work for a moment, then spying the blue glint in her ear, pulled her head roughly aside for a better look. "So," he murmured silkily, "the little thief likes shiny trinkets, hmm? I wonder, did you steal it off some noble's dresser or did a boy do it for you? If I am to believe the stories, you've got one wrapped around your finger good and tight." Chuckling, he ripped the stud out, enjoying the small pool of blood that gathered at the tip of her ear. Slipping the gem into his pocket, he hoisted the thief's body over his shoulder easily, muttering, "Time to go then, pretty. Wouldn't want some heroic fool to find us." Moving silently into the darkness, the King of Thieves disappeared with Kale.

"Where is she," Marik shouted for the third time.

The men nearest him gave each other wide-eyed looks and repeated nervously, "No one's seen her, sir."

Marik paced anxiously, running his hands through his sandy hair. He felt an uneasiness settle in his gut, curling with the worry that had been boiling since sundown. That was normally when Kale checked in for the night before heading back to the little den that she slept in. Granted, Kale tended to be erratic at the best of times, but that didn't ease the tension that kept Marik on edge. And silly as Kale could be, she was usually very good about getting messages back to him. _Kale, what's happened to you? _Dismissing the men irritably, Marik sat in his chair and tried to calm down enough to think. Anger and fear erupted briefly and he slammed his fists into the desk. The force reverberated through the tiny room, shaking a tiny package to the floor with a whispered _thud_. Looking up at the sound, Marik saw the scrap of blue on the floor and a whole new fear spiked through him. Gingerly, he leaned down and picked it up, horrified. It was the scrap that Kale used to turn in her take. There was a small weight to it and Marik carefully opened it. He gasped at the blood-stained earring that he recognized instantly and, with trembling fingers, unfolded the parchment that accompanied it.

It read, "You stole from me, so I stole something of yours. Return what's mine to me and you'll get your girl back. Try to fool me and you'll get her back in pieces." It was signed with two crossed keys, with skulls adorning the handles. The mark of the King of Thieves.

_**Author's Note: Hello, again! I hope you all enjoyed Chapter Four and thank you for your patience. Thanks to all the people who have R&R'd, favorited, and followed my work so far! **_


	5. Chapter 5

_I do not own Bakura or YuGiOh. _

Chapter Five

_The bazaar was empty, as barren as the surrounding desert. It boggled Kale_. Why aren't there any people?_ The bazaar was __**never**__ empty, it was a basic truth of Kale's life. Just as the Nile rose every year to resurrect the soil of life, so the bazaar was always bustling with people. Even when a pharaoh died, the bazaar remained alive._

_Well, except at night, but it wasn't night; the sun was hot on Kale's face, burning hot, her throat dry. _So, where are the merchants, the customers, the pickpockets and cutpurses? Why aren't they here?_ Kale looked around anxiously, spinning in place, trying to catch a glimpse of a face, hear a whisper of fabric against skin. Desperation kept her spinning long after she realized the truth._

_There was no one. _

_Fear traveled up the thief's spine. She was completely and utterly alone. _

_A sudden wind blew sand in Kale's face, ferreting into her nose and mouth. Coughing and spitting, she glanced around one last time, before seeking shelter in an alley. Dust and dirt started flying everywhere. The tiny particles managed to sneak into her eyes, scratching and burning. Kale hissed in pain and reached up to rub the irritation from her eyes. But, when she tried to move her hands, they- for lack of a better description- became stuck in midair, like the air had become quicksand and Kale's hands had sunk into the thick mud. Frantically, Kale started to jerk and yank at her trapped hands, but they stubbornly remained still, frozen. Her fingers didn't so much as twitch. _What the hell is going on,_ Kale thought, terror running through her veins as she imagined her body, unable to escape the elements, hardening into a statue, hands partially raised like a supplication to the gods._

"_Be still or I will carve my name into your back."_

_The cold, menacing voice stabbed at Kale like a knife in the shadows. Snapping her head around, Kale was suddenly_ awake and confronted by blackness. For a terrifying moment, the Phoenix thought she'd gone blind, but then she felt rough cloth rub against her eyelids and cut into the corners of her mouth. She dimly realized she was lying on the ground, hands tied, with something hard but warm pressed against her back. Gagged and blindfolded, the fear that hadn't quite faded yet returned with a vengeance. She twisted slightly, whimpering through the gag. There was a low growl accompanied by a vibration against her spine. "Do you think I jest, girl? Move again and I'll hurt you." The puzzle pieces suddenly snapped together in Kale's mind and she remembered that voice from before:

"_Feisty little thing, aren't you?"_

Before Kale could act on her immediate instinct to flee, a cold, sharp blade pressed against an exposed part of her abdomen, chilling her to the bone. She froze. "Here's how this is going to work," the stranger's voice hissed, his mouth brushing Kale's ear, making her shudder. "I'm going to go back to sleep and you are going to be a good girl and lie perfectly still. I'll forgive you for waking me up _this time_. Do it again, and I will make the rest of your night a living hell. Nod if you understand." Kale, scarcely daring to breathe, nodded. He ran the tip of his knife lightly across her skin a few times to make sure she got the idea, then the stranger settled back, pulling Kale into his chest. Kale tensed immediately, but didn't dare protest. "Good girl," he murmured satisfactorily then was silent. Body frozen from fear, Kale didn't budge until her mind, overwhelmed, shoved her into sleep.

Bakura, King of Thieves, woke when dawn's first fingers flicked across his eyes. With a muttered oath, he opened his eyes and saw ink-black hair. Sitting up, he watched his captive sleep for a few moments, before a pressing need urged him out of the tent. Golden sand, not yet warmed by the sun, sank beneath his feet, and Bakura looked out across the desert sea, rosy from the dawn light. His horse, a chestnut gelding named Osiris, nickered at the man lightly. The slight warmth from the sleepy sun felt good on his bare chest. He took a moment to enjoy the sight before relieving himself.

The albino reentered the tent, stooping a little to get in. Kneeling, he pulled a leather bag towards him. He pulled out a brown shirt with sleeves and pulled it over his head, then, grabbing his water skin, took a healthy swig of water. Bakura wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sighing. He glanced at the sleeping girl in the corner and a devilish smirk stretched across his mouth. Silently, the thief moved so that he was kneeling by her side. Flicking out his knife, Bakura easily cut through the gag and removed it. The girl's mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish, and he heard her swallow, but she didn't wake. Tilting his head thoughtfully, Bakura watched her with narrowed eyes, appraising her. Tan skin, dark hair, and a sharp nose, the girl looked every inch an Egyptian. Unlike him, with his paleness marking him obviously as an outsider. _Pretty? _He considered it briefly. _More cute_, he decided, _with a waifish air to her narrow face._ He let his gaze skim over her body and he smirked again. _She doesn't look a day over fourteen. Barely more than a child._ Suddenly bored, the thief poured water on the girl's face. She gasped and choked as water went into her lungs and her hands, tied behind her back, twisted as she tried shield her face from another attack.

Bakura laughed aloud at her struggles. The girl froze at the sound; Bakura wondered if she'd momentarily forgotten about her situation. He reached out and grabbed her hair, twisting her head towards him. She squawked in protest and the King of Thieves responding by pouring more water into her mouth. This time, she managed to swallow instead of breath it in and she seemed to calm a little.

"Good, you're awake," Bakura remarked, putting the cap back on his water skin. The girl coughed a little, liquid evidently still in her lungs, but didn't reply. Rifling through his bag, Bakura pulled out some food; dates and dried camel meat. Popping a date in his mouth, the thief ripped off a chunk of meat and brushed it against the girl's lips. Startled, she jerked her head away. "Don't be ridiculous," Bakura said, suddenly irritated, "Eat." He pressed the meat against her mouth until she warily opened her mouth and bit down on the chunk of salted camel. While she chewed, Bakura took a bite of his own, watching her movements carefully. She was trying to go slowly, waiting for something just the slightest bit off to warn her of an imminent death by poison. When the girl-thief swallowed, he pulled her up into a sitting position by her collar, ignoring her protests. Then, curiously, he pulled the blindfold over and off her head. The girl cringed at the sudden light, scrunching her eyes shut against it. Slowly, she opened her eyes again, blinking at him like an ibis, then averting her eyes carefully away. Bakura's hand shot out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look back at him. _What an interesting shade of green_, he pondered before releasing her and tearing off another piece of meat. She hesitated again, watching him with wide eyes before taking it from his hand, chewing quietly. The meal continued like that until Bakura, making a quick calculation of supplies in his head, declared it sufficient and put the food away. It was then, while he was turned away, that a vicious blow, a kick, to the back of his right knee sent him sprawling. Before he could recover his feet, a second blow, two fists swinging downward, landed between his shoulder blades. Pain blacked his mind for a brief moment then disappeared, replaced by fury. _Damn tricky thing, played me like a sucker while she fiddled with the rope. _Snarling darkly, he lunged out of the tent and immediately saw the girl dashing away across the sands. Cursing loudly, he leaped onto Osiris and galloped after her.

She was fast, he gave her that. The damned chit had made it nearly one-hundred meters by the time he caught up with her. When he got close enough, he leaned down and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Not caring if he hurt her, Bakura pulled her shrieking off the ground and hauled her into the saddle in front of him. Wrapping one arm around her small waist, the furious thief-king turned his horse around aggressively, making Osiris rear up with agitation, and galloped back towards the tent.

As they approached the tent, Bakura abruptly the girl shoved the girl off the animal, then jumped down himself. Again, she demonstrated admirable agility when she got to her feet quickly, without having to scramble in the sand, but the King of Thieves slapped her back down before she could run off. _You have pissed off the wrong man, little thief,_ he thought malevolently. Mentally, he imagined twisting his knife through the palm of the sneak's hand. _ I can't believe this slip of a girl got the jump on me. This will not go unpunished_. Along that train of thought, he kicked the girl in the ribs, enjoying the breathless sound her gasp of pain made. Bakura reached down and dragged her up to her feet by her hair, pulling her into the tent. The thief girl twisted and struggled, clawing at his hands, but he ignored it. He turned her head to face him and slapped her hard; again and again until her lips were bruised and split and her nosed dripped blood. When her olive-green eyes were dazed and unfocused, he threw her to the ground and pinned her there, with her face pressed into the ground. The girl shouted and struggled, refusing to give up, but Bakura didn't so much as budge. Whipping out his knife with one hand and pinning her wrists with the other, he ran the blade over her neck and sliced down the back of her shirt, then, placing the knife on the edge of her shoulder blade, he cut her. Ignoring her scream of pain, he cut into her again, making a cross shape into her skin. Savoring her pain, he leaned down, putting pressure on the wound, and whispered, "Stupid girl, where were you going to run?" Throwing the knife away disgustedly, he reached into his bag and pulled out another length of rope. _No mercy,_ he thought grimly as he twisted her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together, cruelly tight. Standing up, Bakura kicked her again for good measure and stalked out of the tent, leaving his captive to her pain.

_**Author's Note: Hello, again! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I will probably publish another chapter very shortly, as I am doing a ten day challenge where I write up to 2,000 words a day, so a lot of that will be dedicated to **_**To Catch a Thief**_** and if I come up with another fanfiction, perhaps I'll add to that to. On that note, I wrote a short one-shot about our favorite thief getting his wisdom teeth taken out. Please, check it out and let me know what you think, if I need improvement or anything like that. Thanks again to all the wonderful people who reviewed and encouraged me. It means so much to see that another person thinks my writing is worth following :) Happy days!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**So sorry about the long wait, guys! Been crazy, but here is:**_

Chapter Six

Kale didn't know how long it had been since her tormentor had left her there, bleeding on the tent floor. She was, perhaps, some-what sure that it couldn't be nearly as long as her body insisted it had been. Pain had a strange way of making time stretch and distort. And she was in a lot of pain.

It had been a while since Kale had been kicked in the ribs, but the stabbing pain that came from cracked and broken bones was hard to forget, even when you _weren't_ running for your life on a daily basis. Kale guessed that at least three of her ribs were cracked, all on the left side of her chest. Intense heat flared up from her shoulder every time she tried to move and steadily burned when she held still. Combined with her still aching face, Kale was definitely in a bad place. _Note to self,_ she berated herself,_ try not to make him angry anymore. _It had been a rash move and all she'd gotten out of it was the searing image of an endless desert and bruises all across her body.

Kale closed her eyes and tried to focus on breathing shallowly. The thief forced herself to roll onto her right side, a move that had her shoulder and ribs screaming, but the relief that she felt now that she wasn't lying on her injured side was palpable as soon as the pain of moving faded. Now that she was in slightly less pain, Kale put her mind to the task of trying to figure out _why_ she'd been stolen off the streets.

Power play? There were a handful of rival gangs in Alexandria that would love to cause a little trouble for the Phoenixes, but why her? She was good at her job, but she was just a thief. She wasn't a lieutenant like Odion, didn't have _charm_ like Mai did. The only thing of importance about her that Kale could think of was that Marik had taken a fancy to her; was that it? She knew about the rumors that centered around her Leader and herself, but those rumors had been tossed about for ages, since Marik had taken over years ago. Neither thieves flaunted their new relationship in public, so it seemed unlikely that anyone would try to take advantage of a practically ancient rumor with no proof. No one with skill, anyway, and Kale knew that the man who had taken her had plenty of skill. A slave trader…but, no, that didn't make any sense. You don't get much income off of one slave.

Kale was still racking her brains for answers when he returned. Quick as a snake, his boot slammed into her stomach and all the air in the Phoenix's lungs fled from the impact. Kale gagged and struggled to breathe as red stripes painted across her vision from the pain. She vaguely wondered if he'd broken another rib. A violent shove rolled her onto her back and Kale was face to face with her kidnapper, who was twirling a knife malevolently in his hand. Kale had never seen anyone so pale in her life. His hair and skin were like the rare clouds that crossed the Egypt sky and Kale couldn't help wondering why he wasn't burned from the ever-present sun. However, she was much more concerned about the knife in his hand and the crocodile grin on his face.

"Now," the pale man purred in the false-kind tone she remembered from the day he'd stolen her, "let's play a little game, hmm? It's very simple: I'll ask you a question and you'll give me an answer. If you answer truthfully, we'll move on to the next question. If you lie," the man trailed off, grin widening maniacally. He idly ran the knife over Kale's hip, chuckling when she jumped and tried to shy away. "If you lie," he repeated, "we'll play another game. It's just as easy; it's called 'how loud can I make the little thief scream'. And, believe me, sweetheart, I'll know if you're lying. Understand?"

Kale nodded quickly, seeing the thirst for blood clearly in the man's dark eyes.

"Good," he remarked satisfactorily. "Let's do an easy one first. How old are you, sweetheart? And remember, no lies."

Kale blinked at him in confusion. Why the hell did he want to know that?

"I'm waiting." His voice took on an irritated tone and the knife pressed into her hip, cutting through the thin cloth but not cutting the skin.

Kale quickly decided not to test this man's patience and answered truthfully, "Seventeen."

The man cocked his head at her, raising his eyebrows slightly, and gave her body a disbelieving once-over. "Are you sure about that, pretty," he asked sharply and applied pressure to the knife.

Kale's eyes widened from the sting as the knife bit into her skin. It was just a surface cut, but it still hurt. Fear and pain made her tongue a lot sharper than was wise. "About as sure as any gutter rat _can_ be. Sorry if my age throws a hitch in your grand plan."

The man's eyes widened slightly and he suddenly threw his head back and laughed, a loud, mad sound that sent chills down Kale's spine. Then, he leaned forward and put his face inches away from Kale's stunned one, knife caressing her cheek. Her heart immediately went into overtime, pounding a terrified rhythm in her ears. "Oh, you _are_ a fiery one, I like that," he purred dangerously, that dark smile spread from ear to ear. His thumb idly rested on her throat, feeling her rapid pulse as the knife stroked her skin. "Even scared and hurt, you've still got a little bit of bite left in you. You are a treat indeed." The knife was suddenly danced across her lips, the blade dipping into her mouth. Kale's heart stuttered and she felt her eyes go wide as the metal brushed across her teeth and tongue.

"As fun as this is, sweet, let's keep a civil tongue in that pretty mouth, hmmm? My amusement only goes so far." With that, her captor pulled away, dark humor still evident on his face as he slipped the knife out, wiping the blade clean on his pants. Kale struggled to calm down with the taste of metal haunting her tongue. He hadn't hurt her- this time. She doubted he'd be so forgiving the next time.

"On with the game, shall we? Now, a few weeks ago, your little _gang_," scorn dripped from his tongue on the last word, "stole something, something that escalated you and your fellow thieves into the upper throngs of society. You know what I'm talking about, yes? I know that the job was accomplished by three individuals, and I know your precious _Leader_ was one of them. And, if the street talk is to be believed, your Leader has a shadow that rarely leaves his side, so I'm going to assume he was there as well." Kale was pretty sure that he was talking about Odion-Kale had better things to do than follow Marik around-, not liking where his line of thinking was obviously going. "So, little one, my question is: who was the last thief?" His voice had dropped menacingly and his eyes burned into hers, black oblivion spinning in them.

Kale very quickly considered her options. The dark fury in his eyes was obvious and Kale had very little interest in being on the receiving end of it again. She could lie, give him a different thief, and pray he wasn't as good as he claimed. She could tell the truth and hope he didn't gut her right there for stealing what had clearly been his property. Neither were appealing options.

Licking her lips anxiously, Kale picked her poison, "It was me. I was the third."

The man was silent and Kale had a moment to wonder if she'd come to the wrong conclusion, when he tossed up the knife easily, catching it so the blade pointed down, and brought it down with savage force.

Kale couldn't stop the terrified scream from wrenching itself from her throat and the hard hand that clamped viciously over her mouth only made her scream harder. Her mind went blank from panic and she blacked out.

When she came to, it must have been only moments, the pale man was staring down at her, the bloodless knife dangling from his fingers, a satisfied expression on his face.

"Now, was that so hard?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The night passed without incident, and by the next morning, Bakura was anxious to get on the road. His belongings were mostly packed away and loaded onto Osiris in a quick efficient manner. The girl woke up when she heard him moving around and he could feel those green eyes watching him. When the tent was empty, he nudged her shoulder with his boot. "Get up," he snapped at her. When the girl didn't immediately move, Bakura knelt and hauled her up by the armpits. She hissed with pain, but the Thief King saw how she clenched her jaw tightly to keep from crying out and smiled to himself. She was stronger than she looked.

Bakura silently pushed her outside, mentally approving when she didn't resist. Strong, but also smart. He lead her over to Osiris and shoved her down to her knees. This time, the girl groaned quietly. "Stay put," the Thief ordered, "and don't try anything cute. Understand?" The kid looked like she was tempted to say something snappy, but just nodded instead, trying to breathe through the pain. Satisfied, the man broke down the tent and folded it into a neat package for storage. Walking back around the girl, he looked down at her, hand on his hip. "Up," he gestured with his hand for emphasis. She glared at him darkly, but did as she was told, wincing and gritting her teeth against the pain. "Good girl," he purred, purely to see the outrage in her eyes before spinning her around so he could untie her hands. He pocketed the rope while the girl rubbed at her bruised wrists, wriggling her fingers to restore the blood flow. "I'm going to assume that you're smart enough to stay still on a moving horse," he remarked before lifting her onto Orion's back. Bakura hoisted himself behind her, slipped an arm around her waist, and kicked the horse into motion.

He kept a harsh pace, only stopping for water and to occasionally check his maps. The girl, for her part, did her best to be as silent and still as was possible, almost to the point where Bakura would temporarily forget that she was there… until her body jostled against him roughly. An experienced rider, she was not.

During one of the stops, Bakura idly noticed the white knuckle grip the girl had on the saddle pad and the pained expression on her bruised face, but ignored it, impatiently tapping her leg with the water skin until she took it from him with shaking hands. Any pain she was in was her fault and therefore not his problem. One last look at his map confirmed that they needed just one last push for the day to reach the oasis by nightfall. So, he put away the map and skin and jumped back up.

They made it about halfway through that final stretch when Bakura heard the girl make a strangled moan. That was his only warning before her body suddenly went limp and slipped to the side. Bakura swore and tightened his grip on her waist, pulling sharply on the reins. Osiris whinnied loudly in annoyance, but slowed as commanded by his master. When the horse stopped, Bakura dropped the reins and yanked the young thief's head back, swearing again when he noted her ashen face. She'd fainted.

He dismounted Osiris, pulling the girl down with him and setting her down on the ground. Yanking her shirt up with one hand, he carefully ran his fingers down her sides. Pain roused the thief enough for her to protest his actions, verbally and physically. Ignoring the sharp cries and feeble attempts to punch him, he found two cracked ribs and one that was probably broken. She nearly fainted again when he applied gentle pressure against that bone, affirming that, yes, the rib was definitely broken. Bakura slapped her lightly, more to keep her awake than to cause any pain. She moaned and gagged, nauseous, which only caused her more pain. The Thief King clamped a hand over her mouth. "Don't you dare. Your body can't afford to lose any water right now. The nausea will pass, just keep breathing." When he was sure she wasn't going to vomit, the man removed his hand and stood up, running his hands through his white hair. Every person had a limit of pain they could tolerate. Too much and the heart simply gave out. A skilled torturer could keep their victims alive for days, never crossing that final line. The girl's faint was a fair indicator that she was right at her limit, and Bakura needed her alive. Rifling through a saddle bag, the Thief King pulled out a small vial of cloudy liquid, a small cup, and the water skin. He pulled the cork out the vial and carefully poured three drops of the liquid into the cup, then poured a fair amount of water in. He set the cup down carefully before putting the stoppers back in their respective vial and water skin. Bakura then pressed the cup against the girl's lips, coaxing her to drink. The thief made sure she swallowed every drop before putting away his supplies and carefully resettling her now-sleeping body onto Osiris's back. "Good girl," he murmured, for once in a tone that wasn't patronizing.

**Okay, so this one's super short. Sorry about the slow updates, guys, my muse just hasn't been kind to me. I'm trying very hard to keep Bakura to character and not turn him into a big softie, hopefully I'm achieving that. Ummm, every time I finish these chapters I realize, "Gosh dangit, they still don't even know each other's names!" Then I tell myself, "Next chapter." And the chapter says "Nope. No names for you." Sigh. Next chapter? I guess we'll see. Ta! Reviews are wonderful :)**


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